


Her Light Spreads

by lillianmmalter



Series: A Sunday Kind of Love [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Disabled Character, F/F, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Jealousy, Period-Typical Homophobia, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8076442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillianmmalter/pseuds/lillianmmalter
Summary: Angie's been looking forward to Peggy coming home since she left for California, but she didn't think it would hurt so much when she finally did.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the poem "To Atthis" by Sappho.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to Ellix for being my sounding board and sanity keeper. Also to irisdouglasiana for the commiseration and for not letting me be lazy when I tried to shortcut my way to the end.
> 
> And yes, before you ask, as with many actors, Angie is a total drama queen.

Every few months, with no pattern in it to warn her it was about to happen, Angie suffered cramps so bad they put her out of commission for a couple of days. Nothing helped. Not pain pills or hot water bottles or her nonna’s special red day soup, nothing. All she could do was curl up in a ball and pray that she’d somehow manage to sleep it off.

For some reason, they were worse when she was alone. At least with a roommate she had some shot of getting sympathy, but Peggy had been gone for over a month and Angie was seriously starting to doubt her assurances that she’d ever come back. The apartment Angie was so thrilled to move into felt more cavernous by the day and she was beginning to hate rattling around alone in it.

She was also getting paranoid about any random thump or creak the apartment made. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear that sounded like the front door opening and banging closed.

Angie curled closer around her no longer quite so hot water bottle and whined. If it was a murderer or rapist she was a sitting duck. She didn’t have it in her to get up and find something to bash an intruder over the head with, the best she could do is threaten to bleed on them and she didn’t think that would dissuade the murdering type.

A familiar and long-missed click of heels sounded out in the hall and Angie wanted to cry in relief. Peggy was home!

Angie firmly ignored the clenching hand that had somehow appeared inside her abdomen and called out, “Peggy? Is that you?”

The heels stopped walking and then changed their direction, and there was Peggy’s beautiful face in her doorway looking surprised and concerned.

“Angie, are you alright? What are you doing home at this time of day?”

“Killer monthly,” she said, putting on her best pathetic face.

Peggy smiled softly in understanding and came into the room to sit on the side of Angie’s bed. She’d missed Peggy. Was that a new perfume? She smelled divine. Had she always smelled this divine?

“One of those ones is it?” Peggy asked.

“The worst kind,” Angie agreed. “But enough about me. When did you get back? I was starting to think California had swallowed you whole and was never letting you go.”

Peggy grinned and rolled her eyes, a slight blush spreading pink on her cheeks.

Uh oh. That was new.

“Things kept coming up,” Peggy said. “I didn’t intend to stay out there for so long.”

Angie narrowed her eyes. “Uh huh. So what’s his name?”

Peggy reddened even further. This was definitely trouble.

“Who says there’s a man?” Peggy said. She wouldn’t meet Angie’s eyes.

“I do, and so does that blush on your face.”

Peggy beamed at the floor and shyly met Angie’s gaze. “You’ve met him, actually. Daniel Sousa? He was one of the agents who came to the Griffith to arrest me when that mess with Howard went down last year.”

Angie’s heart sank. This must be the same Daniel Peggy wouldn’t shut up about for a few months after they moved in together and then stopped mentioning for the last six.

“He’s chief of the LA office now,” Peggy continued. “We… make a rather good team.”

“Uh huh,” Angie said. “He a good kisser?”

Peggy smirked. “He is.”

Angie recognized that smirk from her older siblings coming home at all hours of the night. 

“You made out with him at the office, didn’t you?”

Peggy blushed again and Angie could just see it. That dark haired agent who looked a little like Cary Grant pushing her up against a filing cabinet and having his way with her. Peggy arching her back as he sucked a hickey on the pale curve of her throat, her magnificent breasts heaving against her blouse as she gasped in ecstasy...

“We, might have snogged in his office chair once,” Peggy said slowly, avoiding Angie’s eyes again. “I’m not entirely sure how we ended up in it instead of on the floor, though I was a little preoccupied at the time.”

Angie sighed, determined to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut. It was probably just her cramps anyway, right? 

“I wish someone would push me into a chair and kiss me stupid,” she said wistfully. It sounded wonderful.

“I didn’t push him, he fell. I just, went with him and sat in his lap when he landed.” 

No, no, no, she was not going to imagine that. She was not going to imagine Peggy kissing some guy hard enough he fell over.

“That must have been one hell of a snog,” Angie said. 

Peggy’s blush intensified and she looked down at the ground. “It did feel rather forward. We didn’t even bother closing the blinds. Lord knows what any of the agents who might have seen us must have thought.”

Peggy looked gorgeous when she blushed. Angie firmly tucked away her daydreams of ever being the one to make it happen and focused on being a good friend. She could cry about all this after Peggy left. Again.

“Sounds like something out of one of those detective movies, only better, cause the femme fatale and the detective are on the same side and actually deserve each other.”

Peggy’s grin lit up the room. Angie had never seen her look so young and carefree, not even that time she managed to drag her out to Coney Island for a day. She decided then and there she needed to meet this Daniel guy properly sometime. If he was gonna steal her best friend from her, the least she could do is try to understand why, what it was about the guy that made Peggy go moony over him.

That sounded jealous. She would not be jealous. She would be supportive and encouraging and whatever else Peggy needed, but she would not be jealous. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing her completely.

The heaviness in her womb intensified into a clench that matched what was happening to her heart. Angie couldn’t help flinching and curling a little farther into herself.

“Oh, Angie, I’m sorry. Here I am nattering away while you’re in pain. Can I get you anything?”

“I already tried all the old standards,” she said. 

“How about a refresh on your water bottle? I’m dying for a cup of tea after that flight anyway and it’ll be at least another day before I get another decent one. It wouldn’t be a bother.”

Angie’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean it’ll be at least another day before you get another decent cup of tea? You’re not on a case, are you?”

“I’m afraid I am. We’ve only got a twenty hour layover in New York before we have to get on yet another plane to fly to England.”

“We?” Angie asked, blinking stupidly.

Peggy’s smile came back, soft and small. “Daniel’s coming with me to investigate our lead.” She took a breath, obviously steeling herself, and said, “You don’t mind if he stays the night here, do you? Only we need to leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow to get to the airport on time and it would be easier if we don’t have to rendezvous somewhere first.”

“Well, we do have all these extra rooms,” Angie said numbly. “And hey!” She smacked Peggy’s arm with the back of her hand. “This means I’ll actually get to meet the guy making your heart go crazy. I mean, really meet him this time. That’s no bad thing.”

That sounded enthusiastic, right? She did want to meet the guy, after all, even if she didn’t think it would be today. 

Peggy bit her lip, her face now flaming almost as red as her lipstick. “Um, actually, I was thinking he could stay in my room. With me.”

“Oh.” 

_Oh._

Angie tried not to let her jealousy show on her face. She was an actress, dammit, there was no reason Peggy needed to know her actual feelings about this. 

She plastered on a teasing smirk. “So I guess it’s a good thing we’re not living at the Griffith anymore, huh?”

Peggy rolled her eyes, her expression turning wry even as her blush stayed firmly in place. “Do you know, I actually did sneak a man into the Griffith once,” she said. Angie’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. You think you know people… “It was Howard. He needed a place to lay low and bringing him back with me was the only thing I could think of at the time. It was like bringing a fox into a hen house. He was never in my room when I came back looking for him.” She shook her head, fondness and exasperation on her face in equal measure.

“That was bold,” Angie heard herself say.

“It was desperate and stupid. Miss Fry almost caught me smuggling him in. Can you imagine the uproar had she caught me with Howard Stark of all people inside her proper, women only hotel?”

“I’d have paid good money to see how you got out of that.”

“My heart was in my throat the entire time. I’ve faced Nazis that were less intimidating.”

Angie’s brow furrowed again. Miss Fry was a pussycat if you handled her correctly. She never understood why Peggy always took her so seriously. Although she had a point about smuggling Stark in. Miss Fry would’ve been apoplectic at that discovery.

“Anyway,” Peggy said, standing up “how about that water bottle? I’ll put the kettle on and ring Daniel to tell him to come over. He’s still at the office getting a few last minute things sorted before we leave and I’m sure he’s anxious to escape our colleagues. Lord knows what kind of teasing they’re making him endure. When I left it was something along the lines of Daniel following me back across the country like a puppy hoping for a pat on the head. Little do they know.”

Angie smiled dimly and fished the hot water bottle out from under the covers, handing it over. Peggy took it with a wide grin and clicked back out of the room, happiness radiating from her with every step. 

So that was another friend lost to love then. Angie sighed and fought back her tears.

She had to stop pining after her roommates like this; it hurt too much when they inevitably left her for a guy.

But she’d tried to be so careful with Peggy. She’d passed Angie’s Captain America test, for crying out loud! What woman who daydreamed about marrying a good man wouldn’t want that kind of specimen coming home to her every night? Even Angie could have stood being married to him. She just didn’t get it. 

She moved to turn over so Peggy wouldn’t see her puffy, red face when she came back and felt that familiar, uncomfortable squelch between her legs that meant she probably needed to change out the napkin hooked to her sanitary belt.

Angie groaned and gingerly rolled out of bed to deal with it. 

Stupid rag, always coming at the worst time of month and being a complete nuisance the entire time it stuck around. She didn’t even want kids of her own, it wasn’t fair she had to deal with this mess every month.

Oh, it was unpleasant to walk like this. She hoped she didn’t leak blood on her nightgown. She liked this nightgown.

Napkin changed and nightgown thankfully safe, Angie returned to her room to find Peggy sitting on her bed, hot water bottle wrapped in a towel on her lap. She wore a small, private smile on her face that fell when she saw Angie walk in the door.

“Angie? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve been crying.”

“Oh, it’s just these cramps,” Angie said lightly, walking back across the room. “You know how bad they can get sometimes.”

“Yes, but I’ve never seen you cry from them. What’s really going on?”

Oh sure, _now_ she gets observant.

“It’s fine, really.”

“Angie.”

Angie’s chin wobbled. She looked into that beloved face and knew there was no getting out of this one. At least she could try to control the story Peggy got.

“You’re not coming back to New York, are you?”

Peggy looked stunned. “What?”

“When you’re done with whatever this case is, you’re not coming back to New York. You’re moving to LA.”

“I-”

“I’ve seen that look on roommates’ faces before, English, I know what it means.” Tears started running down her face and Angie barely stopped herself from sobbing. Peggy stood and pulled her into her arms. Any remaining self-control Angie had left broke and she started crying in earnest.

“You found your guy and you’re going to England and you’ll probably introduce him to your folks and get married and, and, and I’ll never see you again!” Angie cried. She sounded hysterical to her own ears, but Peggy just held her and stroked her hair. It only made her cry harder.

“Oh, Angie. I’m so sorry. I never thought my leaving for so long would hurt you like this.”

Angie sniffled and shook her head into Peggy’s shoulder. It was so soft, and she smelled so good, it wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t she have this for real? Just once?

“I haven’t decided to stay in California, you know,” Peggy continued. “I was intending to come back shortly before this most recent case happened. It’s just-”

“It’s just you finally figured out you love this guy and want to have his babies, right?”

Peggy stiffened and Angie could almost hear her blush.

“That’s going a bit far. We only just started dating.”

“But eventually you’re gonna get married and leave for good, I know it. And it’s gonna be to this guy cause I’ve never seen you look like that. I know you, English. I can tell that you’re in love.”

Peggy was silent for a moment and Angie took advantage of it to listen to the sound of her heartbeat while she still had the chance. It was just as soothing as she always imagined it would be. God, it wasn’t fair.

“You do know if I ever do get married you’ll be my maid of honor, right?”

Angie scoffed and pulled back to look at her. “If? English, have you listened to yourself? You’re so head over heels for this guy, Martians can see it. If he’s worthy of you at all you’ll be married in a year, mark my words.”

Peggy blushed again and looked away. A year was probably being generous, actually.

Angie slipped out of her arms and sat down on the bed, pulling the hot water bottle over her lower abdomen and sighing in relief. Maybe all she had needed to do was refresh the hot water in it after all.

“So, when’s lover boy getting here anyway?” Angie asked, sniffling and wiping at her eyes. 

“It shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes. Probably less than that at this time of day.”

“So you’re sayin’ I should get my butt in gear and get changed into something more presentable than my ratty old nightgown and bathrobe now, right? Can’t be making you look bad in front of Mr. Handsome.”

“You don’t have to if you’re not feeling up to it. Neither of us will mind.”

Oh god, she was already making declarations about how he’d react as though the two of them were of the same mind. Peggy was definitely a goner.

Angie shot her an unimpressed look and stood to rifle through her drawers one-handed for something suitable to wear, holding the water bottle to her stomach with the other. One of her looser skirts, probably, and a blouse that didn’t have a bajillion buttons, she didn’t have patience for buttons today. Oh, screw it. She’d just pull on one of her lighter weight sweaters, then there’d be no buttons to deal with at all. It wasn’t that hot in the apartment, for all it was the middle of August.

“Are you sure you’re up for meeting him?” Peggy asked. “I don’t want to put you out if you’re feeling as badly as you say. I know how awful your monthlys can get.”

“I’ll be fine, English, don’t you worry about me. I’m already feeling better.” Perversely enough, she actually was, physically, at least. Maybe that was the key to dealing with her cramps, meet her crush’s boyfriend.

Ugh. Why was this her life?

“Right. Well, I’ll leave you to get changed, then,” Peggy said, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. She looked like she was going to say something else, but turned and left instead, closing the door behind her.

Angie slumped against her dresser the moment the door closed. Being the bigger person sucked.

With a sigh, Angie put down the water bottle and went about getting dressed, making sure to brush her hair and put on actual shoes instead of her house slippers. She pressed a cool cloth to her face to get rid of any puffy redness; it wouldn’t do to actually look as miserable as she felt in front of company. When she was done, she left her room and headed down the hall to the living room, where she could hear the low tones of a male voice speaking. She stopped in her tracks, her stomach roiling with discomfort. It was a struggle not to just turn around and hide in her room for the rest of the day, but she did say she wanted to meet the guy and Peggy would be hurt if she made a liar out of herself. Besides, who knew when the next time she might get to see Peggy would be.

They were standing close to each other in the middle of the room, their hands lightly held between them. It was only when they both turned toward Angie that she saw it.

He had a crutch. How did she not remember that? It was one of those things you’d think you’d notice about a person, but here she was, utterly gobsmacked that Peggy’s beau needed a crutch to get around. He didn’t even look that much like Cary Grant, now that she was looking at him properly. He was more of a Gregory Peck guy. Clearly her memory was worthless. 

But a crutch. Huh.

“Angie, you remember Daniel Sousa,” Peggy said, her well-bred English manners coming to the fore.

“Yeah," Angie said, shaking off her shock. "Peggy said you’re a chief now. Do you prefer to be called that or-”

“Daniel’s fine,” he said, looking a little awkward. He reached out to shake her hand in a comfortably firm grip. “It’s good to see you again, Miss Martinelli, under somewhat better circumstances this time.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to burst into tears at you again. And it’s Angie,” Angie said. 

He laughed, tension easing from his shoulders. “I’ve gotta say, that was sure one hell of a way to get us off your back. You’re quite the actress.” She couldn’t help preening a little at that, even as a part of her still wanted to hate him on principle.

“Guys don’t know what to do with a crying woman.” Angie shrugged casually. “Works every time.”

“You go around subverting the law a lot?”

“Only when they’re trying to arrest my friends.”

He shot an amused look at Peggy who was looking smug. “You really do go around corrupting everyone you meet, don’t you?”

“I’m sure I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

Were they flirting? They were flirting. Right in front of her.

“So, did you two have any plans for lunch? I was probably just gonna get takeout or something.” Angie lied. She may live rent free in a Madison Avenue penthouse, but there was no way she’d pay for food in this part of town if she didn’t have to.

“Actually,” Daniel said “I swung by a couple of my old haunts on the way up here and picked up some things I’ve been missing since I moved out west. Jack may be a jerk in most things, but he’s right about California not having any good pizza.” This last was aimed at Peggy, who gave him a fond look before smiling at Angie, as though Angie was supposed to have any clue what that meant.

“Pizza sounds good,” she said, for lack of anything else to say. “You wanna raid Stark’s wine stash?” She had a feeling she’d need the alcohol to get through the rest of the day and wine was more socially acceptable than cheap schnapps.

“Isn’t it a little early in the day for wine?” Peggy asked.

“None of us have anywhere to be, right?” Daniel said with a shrug. 

“I suppose not.” Peggy still only looked half-convinced.

“Stark have any Syrah?” Daniel asked.

Angie shrugged, having no idea what that was. “I think so.” He probably did.

Peggy sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’ll find something red and meet you in the dining room. I’m too famished to argue with both of you,” Peggy said and disappeared down the hall.

“I think that’s the fastest she’s ever backed down from anything,” Daniel said, still looking at the place where she disappeared. “Maybe I should call you in for backup the next time I’m trying to talk her down from doing something dangerous.”

“Peggy can take care of herself.”

Daniel finally turned back toward Angie and smiled. “She can. Doesn’t make it any easier not to worry about her though. Sometimes it makes it worse.”

Angie could see it in his eyes, the worry he had for Peggy. It wasn’t the mother henish kind of worry either, but the kind that stemmed from knowing exactly what kind of danger Peggy might find herself up against and wishing with all his might he could protect her from the worst of it. It was the kind of worry she saw in her dad’s eyes after Pearl Harbor as her male cousins signed up for the war one by one. The kind of worry her dad wore like a shroud from the second her big brother Freddy signed up to the day they got that awful telegram a year later.

It wasn’t a comfort to see it in Daniel’s eyes now.

An awkward silence fell between them as they walked into the dining room together where, as promised, there was a large paper bag on the table with the smell of pizza emanating from it. Next to the bag was a box tied up with twine that looked like it might have come from a bakery.

“What’s in the box?” she asked.

“Sfogliatelle. There’s a place in the Village that makes them. My sister used to bring them home sometimes when she thought we needed a treat, and I haven’t been able to find them anywhere in LA.”

Angie’s eyebrows flew up and her estimation of him reluctantly rose a little higher.

“I haven’t had one of those in years,” she said. “I had a great aunt who used to make them, but nobody picked it up after she died. They’re supposed to be a pain in the butt to make.”

Daniel chuckled. “I’d believe it. Pastries usually are.”

“You bake?”

“Not anymore. One of my older sisters forced us all to help her learn to cook what felt like everything under the sun before she got married. It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing a 14 year old boy most wanted to spend his time on, but I learned to cook because of it. And I learned there are certain things I never want to attempt again, baking pastries being near the top of the list.”

“He’s actually a very good cook,” Peggy said, walking into the room with the promised bottle of wine. Angie wondered how long she’d been standing there. It was amazing how silent she could be in those heels when she put her mind to it.

“Well, that’s lucky for you,” Angie said “cause all you’ll do is start a fire in the oven making eggs.”

Daniel burst out laughing and Peggy flushed, rolling her eyes. “That happened once.”

They pulled some of Stark’s china out of the cabinet at the end of the room and sat down to eat. Angie was amused to note that none of them were particularly graceful about it, Peggy in particular getting sauce on her cheek almost immediately.

Angie got them talking about California: what the weather was like, how nice or mean the people were, if they met any movie stars - she took their obvious evasions on that last topic as evidence that they had. While they talked, she watched them, both separately and together.

Daniel was a handsome man, as far as men went. He was well-groomed and decently dressed despite his apparent aversion to wearing neckties with his suit. Maybe it was a California thing, or because he and Peggy were in the middle of such a long journey. In any case, he looked good and Angie could almost see what Peggy saw in him, appearance-wise, at least.

What was more troubling is that he looked at Peggy like she hung the moon and stars, and that was when she had her back turned to him. When they actually looked at each other, Angie felt like an intruder in her own home. She’d seen romantic movies where the love interests didn’t look at each other like that. And Peggy positively sparkled under his attention. Angie had never seen her look so girlish.

She knew she should have been glad for her friend that she found someone who was so clearly head over heels for her, but the longer she watched them together the more the jealousy in her gut twisted and writhed and tempted her to be mean. That was when Angie turned the conversation to Hollywood and some of the actors and actresses she admired, which helped lead them directly where the most vindictive part of her wanted them to go.

“Peggy here thinks Marlene Dietrich looks good in a tuxedo,” Angie said. 

So it was a low blow, this Daniel guy seemed smart and charming enough he could probably pretty easily find a new girl in no time, crutch or no crutch. He shot her a look she couldn’t quite read and turned his attention back to Peggy.

“She does look rather dashing in one,” Peggy agreed around her last mouthful of sfogliatella, which she had all but inhaled with some very distracting moaning. “When I was a kid I used to fantasize about going through life in tuxedos and suits like I saw women doing in the movies. It devastated me when I got older and learned I didn’t have the figure for it.” Both Angie and Daniel gave her confused looks at that.

“Peg, you wear pantsuits all the time,” Daniel said.

“Now I do. Because I saw Dietrich wearing one during one of her USO tours and I realized it wasn’t my figure that was the problem, it was all in the cut of the suit.”

“You met Marlene Dietrich during the war?” Angie asked, barely able to keep her jaw off the floor.

“I shook her hand, if that’s what you mean,” Peggy said. “She was really there for the boys, not for me, but I did manage to get the name of one of her tailors stateside.”

Daniel chuckled at that and shook his head. “And I’ll bet you just came straight out with it and asked her.”

“Well, of course I did. We both had places to be after. There was no point pussyfooting around the subject.”

Angie choked on the sip of wine she just took.

“She was very gracious about it. Even complimented me on the fit of my uniform.” Peggy cocked her head, as though a thought had just occurred to her. “You know, now that I think about it, she was rather complimentary about the shade of my lipstick as well, which was a slightly odd thing to mention in that conversation.”

Daniel barely seemed to be able to hold back laughter.

“She complimented your lipstick?” Angie asked faintly.

“Mm. She said it suited me and that she was curious to try it for herself. I told her the name of the woman here in New York who makes it for me. You know it’s a custom blend.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what she was after, Peggy,” Daniel said, grinning.

“No?”

“Did she invite you back to her tent?”

“She was staying in a hotel the next town over.” Peggy said. Her posture straightened when Daniel’s grin turned into a smirk. “Surely you’re not suggesting-”

“You live near Hollywood long enough you start to hear things.” He took a sip of wine, eyes never leaving Peggy’s face, then said, “You know, I gotta say, learning that one of Hollywood’s leading ladies once flirted with you while surrounded by troops whose butts I know you personally kicked into gear is kind of amazing. And not surprising at all.”

“She wasn’t flirting with me,” Peggy said, as though the idea of anyone flirting with her was utterly preposterous.

“It kinda sounds like she was, English.” And, boy, wouldn’t that image fuel her fantasies for a while.

“She’s old enough to be my mother,” Peggy protested. 

Angie shrugged, attempting to be casual. “That doesn’t stop people. You’ve seen some of the geezers who hit on me at the diner.”

“Yes, but those are uncouth men. We’ve all had bad experiences with that type.” 

Daniel looked like he was going to protest at first and then nodded his head in concession. Angie had no idea what that was supposed to mean. 

“Doesn’t mean she wasn’t flirting,” Angie said.

“Mm,” Peggy hummed, thoughtful. “Flirting or not, she did have a wonderfully refreshing set list. It was one of the only times I heard live music since I joined the American effort. If you don’t count the boys singing drunkenly to each other at whatever pub they could find in between missions.”

“That must have been tough,” Angie said. Peggy rarely talked about the war and Angie had learned early on not to push the subject. Bland encouragement was best.

Daniel nodded absently, then shot them both a calculating look.

“You know, Peg, I kind of get the impression you haven’t heard much live music since you got back from the war either. At least not anything unrelated to a case.”

She cocked her head in his direction and gave him a flirty look that punched Angie right in the stomach. “And are you suggesting something?”

He shrugged. “We’re in one of the greatest cities in the world for live music with nothing left to work on for the rest of the night. We could all go out to a club.”

“We could go dancing,” Peggy said, an excited spark in her eye. Angie immediately started planning another attack of cramps, wondering how to strike a balance between Peggy understanding her and Daniel staying completely in the dark.

“Maybe not dancing, so much, at least not on my part,” Daniel said.

“Nonsense. Don’t you dare try to use your leg as an excuse to get out of dancing at least one dance with each of us. Unless you’ve got somewhere in particular in mind that doesn’t offer it.”

“There’s actually a place I know on MacDougal Street, The Swing Rendezvous,” Daniel said. “I used to hear some great bands there when I lived in the city. They even have a small dance floor if you’re that set on embarrassing me.”

“MacDougal Street?” Angie asked, fictitious ailments all but forgotten. “Isn’t that where a lot of, um-”

“Fairy bars are located? Yeah. This one I’m thinking of is more of an entertainment bar, but a lot of lesbians go there too. I used to go after I got discharged to try to get used to being around women again without, you know, any pressure.”

A lesbian bar? Angie’s heart thudded in her chest at the mere idea of going to a lesbian bar, let alone going to one with Peggy. She all but stopped listening as the idea swirled around in her head. 

A lesbian bar. A place where women who loved women went to be with each other, in public, and the people inside didn’t mind. She’d heard of them, of course, but never dared to dream of actually going inside one. What if she was caught, what if she was set upon by white slavers or drunk ruffians as she was leaving? But if she went tonight with Peggy and Daniel, she’d have protection, she’d simply be a girl out on the town for the night with her friend and her friend’s boyfriend. They’d be tourists in a naughty part of the city. It was distasteful, put like that, but that’s what they would look like to the rest of the world. And that would give her the opportunity to go, to see for herself what was possible, and maybe for Peggy to see what was possible.

She jumped when Peggy touched her shoulder.

“What?”

“I asked if you were feeling up to going out tonight,” Peggy said. “I know you weren’t feeling well earlier.”

“I’m fine,” Angie said quickly. “We can go out. It’ll be fun.” 

“You’re sure?”

“Hey, don’t try to use me as an excuse not to go out tonight, English. Unless you just don’t want a third wheel cramping your style.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “Third wheel, my foot. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then we’re going?” Daniel asked.

“We’re going. It’ll be good to do something normal for once,” Peggy said. “Besides, Daniel still owes me a drink.”

Daniel smiled. There was a sly, slightly triumphant edge hiding in the curve of his lips that would have annoyed Angie if she weren’t so excited to go. 

A lesbian bar. She wondered what it would be like.

~*~

Angie hadn’t had occasion to go into many bars in her time. In fact, she never had. Women weren’t allowed into respectable bars without a male escort and there was no way she was willing to risk getting mistaken for a harlot in the ones she could get into alone. So she didn’t know if the low lights and smoky atmosphere was typical of bars in general or just ones that catered to this kind of clientele. And she didn’t know if the long, scarred wood bar with mirrors behind the bottles was typical or not, though she figured it probably was. She also wasn’t certain what she was meant to do with herself now that she was here. She settled for doing her best not to look like a scared rabbit.

Daniel and Peggy, on the other hand, both looked perfectly at ease. They walked straight up to the bar and ordered two fingers of whiskey each and something called a Zombie for her. After a small argument about it, Daniel opened a tab in his name and the three of them retreated to an open table with good views of both the small stage and the door.

The music the band was playing was good: upbeat in a way that didn’t let Angie dwell on how awkward she felt being so close to Peggy and Daniel’s obvious flirting and different enough from the jazz standards she was used to that she didn’t feel bored. There were a handful of couples dancing in the small space allowed for it, though most of them seemed to be made up of the usual male and female couples. One pair was made up of two women, though, which made Angie’s breath catch in her throat and gave her a brief flash of her and Peggy out there dancing together, laughing together the way those women were. Their bodies would be pressed together, Peggy’s hand teasing across the small of her back, her own hand trailing along the back of Peggy’s blouse where her collar met her neck…

Angie shook her head slightly to shake off the fantasy and continued looking around the room.

True to what Daniel had said about the place, there were more women than men here, though there were a handful of slightly bohemian looking men scattered throughout the crowd, some of them cuddled up to their girlfriends and others pressed against each other as they excitedly discussed whatever it was they were talking about. Across the room there was a particularly handsy young couple canoodling in a corner surrounded by a group of raucous women, all laughing and having a good time. 

Wait. The young couple in the corner were both women too. One of them was just dressed like a man, even down to her short cropped hair.

Angie looked closer at some of the couples on the dancefloor and saw that that two more of them were made up of women as well, but that one half of each pair was dressed like a man in a similar style to the handsy woman in the corner. 

Huh.

This was not much like the image of bars Angie had developed in her mind at all. It was neither as glamorous nor as seedy as she’d expected and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She turned back toward her companions and took a sip of her drink, a sweet, fruity concoction that would definitely go on her list of things to try again. Maybe she’d have to try this bar again later too, with or without Peggy next time.

Daniel’s eye caught on a woman who had just entered the bar and he grinned. Angie was instantly livid. Who the hell did this jerk think he was to bring them here just to flirt with another woman? Who probably wasn’t even interested in men anyway, given where they were. She looked over to see Peggy’s reaction, but she didn’t seem to have noticed, her attention caught on something happening on the dancefloor. When Angie turned to see what was so fascinating, she almost dropped her drink in shock. The couple who had first caught her eye on the dancefloor were kissing each other. Right out in the open.

The women in the corner yelled out something Angie couldn’t hear over the music and the dancers shouted something back and went back to dancing together, making the women in the corner laugh and cheer. 

Angie blinked in astonishment.

“What are you doing here, Danny?”

Angie snapped out of it and turned to look at the speaker, a gorgeous woman with red lips and her dark hair pinned up into a pompadour who could give Ava Gardner a run for her money in a look alike contest. Angie blushed.

Daniel blushed too and shot a glance at Peggy, who was looking at the woman warily. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop callin’ me Danny?”

“At least another hundred,” she said, crossing her arms. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in California to start a whole new life. Or was that just misdirection?” She looked angry, but also deeply hurt. Angie wondered if she was a scorned lover. Though if she was that didn’t explain what she was doing in a bar like this. Peggy, instead of looking worried or betrayed was looking intrigued.

“Does this look like the tan of somebody who’s been lying to you for months?” Daniel asked. Unlike Peggy, he was starting to look worried.

“I can assure you, Daniel most certainly has been in LA,” Peggy said, standing. The woman’s eyes sharpened and darted to Peggy, giving her a quick once over before narrowing in consideration.

“Edith Sousa,” she said, sticking out her hand.

Angie’s jaw dropped and her anger at Daniel threatened to overwhelm her. _He was married?_ That absolute, no good, dirty rotten _cad._ And to think she was beginning to like him, or at least to like his taste in venues. She looked to Peggy, worried how she’d take the news, but Peggy was grinning and returning the handshake.

“Peggy Carter. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Edith’s eyes widened and her hurt pout turned into a shark’s grin.

“Lady agent, Peggy Carter?” she asked, raising an impeccably groomed eyebrow at Daniel, who groaned and looked like he wanted to bury his head in his hands.

“Yes,” he ground out. “That Peggy Carter. Peggy, Angie, this is my baby sister, Edie. Be nice,” he directed at Edith.

His sister? Well now Angie felt like the biggest heel in all creation. At least she hadn’t said anything. She looked between the two siblings and could definitely see the family resemblance now that she was looking for it, especially around the eyes.

Edith shot her a polite smile and briefly shook her hand before stalking around the table to pull up a chair in between Peggy and Daniel as though there wasn’t a seat free right next to Angie. In any other circumstance she’d be offended, but Angie could see a sibling plot from a mile away and settled back in her chair to watch the fallout. It would be nice to see Daniel embarrassed.

“So, Peggy,” Edith said, turning her back almost completely on Daniel who looked both mortified and annoyed. “Did you know my brother’s had a raging crush on you the past two years?”

“Edie!”

Angie had never seen anyone who so literally looked like he wanted to crawl in a hole and die. She fought a smile and took another sip of her drink. 

Peggy laughed and leaned in conspiratorially. “Funnily enough, I do know about his crush,” she said. She glanced warmly at Daniel before continuing, “In fact, I’d be rather put out if he didn’t have one on me.”

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?”

“Well, one does tend to hope one’s boyfriend has a crush on her.”

Daniel’s face lit up like the Hudson at sunset, even as Angie’s heart died another quiet death inside her chest. At this rate she’d be lucky if she had enough heart left to get up to go to work tomorrow.

Edith turned and hit Daniel hard on the shoulder. “You jerk! You never told me you finally asked her out!”

“Well, technically I didn’t,” he said, his smile turning smug. Peggy was giving him a look Angie had never seen on her face before, almost like she wanted to eat him.

Ew. No, no, she did not sign up for this. Wasn’t it bad enough her heart was broken? Did they have to rub it in too?

Edith looked between them speculatively and narrowed her eyes at Peggy.

“So how’d you finally get him to pull his head out of his butt?”

Daniel looked offended while Peggy grinned at him, and Angie found herself speaking before she realized she was doing it.

“She pushed him into a chair and kissed him stupid.”

Damn. That definitely sounded jealous. There was no way her dull monotone could be misconstrued as anything else.

“I did not push him, he fell!” Peggy exclaimed. Daniel grinned at her, but Edith’s attention was now firmly on Angie. She felt like a mouse pinned by a cat. A gorgeous, sharply intelligent cat.

“Were you there?” she asked.

“No.” Thank god for small mercies.

“Angie’s my roommate here in New York,” Peggy explained. “We’ve just been catching up for the past few hours while your brother and I are in town before our next plane leaves.”

Edith blinked. “You’re on a case?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said.

“Which explains why Dad doesn’t know you’re back.”

Daniel flinched but nodded. “I didn’t want to get him excited when we’re leaving in the morning.”

“But you could have introduced me,” Peggy teased.

“I’d rather be dating longer than a couple weeks before I subject you to my dad,” Daniel said. “I don’t want to scare you off that quickly.”

They grinned dopily at each other and Angie felt ill. She was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the heaviness in her womb returning with a painful clench and everything to do with how awful this day was. She sipped again on her drink and startled when her straw came up empty.

“A couple weeks? Jeeze.” Edith said. “Well, if that’s the case, I don’t want to be between your dopey cow eyes any longer. They’re only bound to get worse.” She stood up and walked around the table, where she snatched Angie’s empty glass from her hands and set it down. “Hey, Angie, let me buy you another drink. You can give me the dirt on Peggy and these two can be disgusting by themselves. What d’you say?”

What Angie really wanted was to curl up in a miserable ball at home, but she was already here and a beautiful woman wanted to buy her a drink. In a place no one would look at them twice for it. She plastered on her waitress smile and agreed.

She wobbled a little when she stood, but Edith caught her gently by the elbow and then kept her hand there as they made their way through the tables to the bar. Her hand was soft where it came into contact with Angie’s skin and Angie’s stomach fluttered. This was the kind of establishment that catered to people like her and here she was with a woman she prayed was like her too. That had to be why she was here, right? She clearly wasn’t expecting a family reunion earlier, so she had to be here for the crowd.

“What were you drinking?” Edith asked when they got to the bar.

“I think they called it a Zombie?” Angie’s head was fuzzier than she was used to after drinking, and it was making it difficult to think, but that’s exactly the way she wanted it. She didn’t want to think about Peggy falling in love with a guy and leaving her, she didn’t want to think about her big empty apartment on the Upper East Side, she just wanted to look at the pretty girl beside her and listen to the music.

Edith ordered another Zombie for her and a Sidecar for herself and put both drinks down on her brother’s tab with a grin and a wink. Angie hoped her own smile didn’t look as awkward as it felt.

“So what’s your last name, Angie?”

“Martinelli.”

“I thought you looked Italian. Long Island?”

“New Jersey. What about you?”

“Rhode Island. Then Long Island, and now Manhattan.”

“So you’re sayin’ you have a thing for islands.”

Edith laughed, then turned faux serious. “‘No man is an island, Entire of itself, Every man is a piece of the continent, A part of the main.’” She rolled her eyes when she was done and picked up her drink, holding it up in a toast. Angie quickly picked hers up and did the same. “To everyone being connected, for better or ill.”

“Um. Sure,” Angie said, clinking their glasses together and taking a drink. “Sorry, what was that all about?”

“John Donne. Sorry, I just finished a massive headache of a paper on him and the quote just spilled out.”

“You’re in school?”

“NYU, grad school. I’m supposed to be finding an accomplished husband and making my dad proud. Clearly that’s not gonna happen.” She gestured around them with her glass and Angie’s heart thudded extra hard in her chest.

“My dad wants me to go to secretarial school,” Angie said.

“Is that not gonna happen either?”

“Nope. I’m gonna be an actress. Preferably on Broadway, but I’d settle for radio.”

“I’d kill to be able to see an actual performance on Broadway. I always say I’m gonna and then it never happens.”

“Yeah? Maybe we should go to one together. There’s bound to be something decent opening soon.”

It took Angie a moment to realize what she’d said. She’d just asked a gorgeous woman she didn’t even know on a date. Was it a date? Did she want it to be a date?

Angie glanced over Edith’s shoulder at Peggy and Daniel, who had moved closer together and were talking intimately about something. She took a sip of her drink and looked back at Edith, who was watching her closely.

“I’ll go to a show with you if you answer one question,” she said.

Angie blinked and shrugged. “Okay. Ask away.”

“How long have you been in love with her?”

Angie’s brain stuttered to a halt and the noise and music around them faded to a dim hum.

“What?”

“How long have you been in love with your roommate? You know, the gorgeous brunette with a rack to die for and lips that look like sin?”

“That’s not…”

“Not why you’re in love with her? Pretty sure it’s not why Danny’s in love with her either, but it doesn’t hurt. So how long?”

Angie saw in her face that she wasn’t going to drop the subject until she was satisfied, whether it was protectiveness for her brother or her own curiosity driving her. Her heart was beating fit to compete with the drums onstage and her palms were damp with nervousness. She’d never talked to anyone about this before, her mother had drilled it into her head at a young age that good girls didn’t talk about being in love with other girls. 

She looked Edith in the face and shrugged. 

“I don’t know,” she said. “Since I met her probably.”

Angie’s stomach clenched nervously at the admission, but Edith didn’t seem to notice or care and nobody else was looking at her like she’d just painted a target on her back either. And suddenly she felt just a little bit lighter, a little bit less like a freak.

Edith leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her drink. “You ever kiss her?”

Angie snorted and rolled her eyes. “I wish. She’s probably amazing at it.”

“Why didn’t you? I assume you know what line of work she’s in if you live with her; she’s not the type to spread stories if she isn’t interested.”

“I guess I kept hoping she’d make the first move,” Angie said to her drink, feeling dumb now for waiting on Peggy when Peggy was so careful with her personal life. “It’s not like she’s shy about most things, just reserved. I figured her work kept getting in the way or something.”

“Or she’s just not interested that way.”

Angie’s bottom lip quivered, and wasn’t that wonderful? She should be thrilled to be here, in a place with so many others like her, with someone beautiful and smart and interesting paying attention to her, but all she wanted was Peggy. Peggy, who laughed at her jokes and encouraged her acting, who sat with her when she was sick and always asked for stories about awful customers as though they could possibly be as interesting as being a spy. Peggy, who was going to invite her boyfriend into her bed tonight as though it was the most normal thing in the world. Her boyfriend and not Angie.

“That’s supposed to be me she’s with,” she said quietly.

Edith snorted. “‘Supposed to’ doesn’t mean shit. It’s just a stupid thing your mind says to make you feel terrible for not living up to the impossible.”

“It’s not impossible.”

Edith brought her hand up to clutch Angie’s chin and force her head in the direction of the table. Peggy and Daniel were looking at each other like nothing else mattered in the world. For Peggy of all people to look like that…

“Does that look like someone who’s a possibility for you?”

Daniel said something and Peggy leaned over to kiss the corner of his mouth, pulling back with a beaming smile and a tension in her body that looked like she was restraining herself from something more.

She’d knocked the man over into a chair and sat in his lap to kiss him stupid. She’d actually blushed when she told Angie about him earlier today. Peggy almost never blushed, at least not around Angie. 

“No,” Angie whispered, tears falling from her lashes as she blinked. “I guess she doesn’t.”

It hurt to admit it out loud. Worse than all the smiles and the flirting and the light touches Peggy gave to Daniel instead of her. Worse than the burns she got at work or the cramps that had her immobilized earlier in the day. She felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest and sewn back in wrong.

And then she just felt empty.

Edith wiped the tears away with gentle fingers then leaned back to finish her drink.

“Welcome to the Heartbreak Club. I’m thinking of making pins.”

Angie sniffed and turned to look at her more properly. There was a weariness around Edith’s eyes she hadn’t noticed before.

“You too, huh?”

“My girlfriend broke up with me last week to move back to Oregon,” she said with a shrug. “Can’t do much about that.”

“You didn’t want to go with her?”

“I like New York. I like the people and the dirt and the fact that I know at least three places near my neighborhood to go get coffee at two in morning if I’m on a writing jag and can’t be bothered to make any myself. And Marlene hated the city for all the same reasons.”

“Sounds like the split is probably for the best, then.”

“Probably. But she was a good kisser, and she had great hands.”

Angie blushed and sipped at her drink. The music changed to something a little more downtempo and Edith gave her a considering look.

“You wanna dance?”

“I, um-” 

“It’s not a marriage proposal. I saw you looking at the dance floor when I came in earlier. No one will care.”

Angie thought about her fantasy of dancing with Peggy out there, of Peggy slipping her hand around her waist and pulling her close, then firmly shoved the thought away. It wasn’t gonna happen, so there was no use dwelling on it.

She screwed on a grin and grabbed Edith’s hand. “Sure. Let’s go, Island Girl.”

Edith blinked and smiled, grasping Angie’s hand more firmly between them and led them to the dance floor. Angie felt nervous anticipation bubble up in her gut. She’d danced with women before of course, in high school when there weren’t enough boys to go around, but never like this, never with the full knowledge that both she and her dance partner had the possibility of being interested in the other as more than friends.

The woman Angie mistook for a man when she first arrived called out to them as they passed. “Hey, Kiki College. Is that your study partner?” Her companion laughed a shrill, obnoxious cackle. Edith scowled.

“That supposed to mean something?” Angie asked, allowing herself to be steered more swiftly to the dance floor.

“It means they don’t like that I don’t play by their stupid rules, that’s all. If the music wasn’t so good I’d stop coming here.” She paused for a moment and then shrugged. “Actually I might stop coming here anyway. You’re the first nice person I’ve met here for a while, and I only met you because of my brother.” She pulled a ridiculous face at the mention of Daniel and Angie laughed, which seemed to startle her. A moment later she smiled at her and Angie’s heart turned over.

Oh. 

Maybe that’s what Peggy saw in Daniel. That was quite a smile. Why hadn’t she noticed how nice it was earlier?

Edith slid her right hand across Angie’s back and pulled her into a traditional dancing position, letting Angie have the girl’s part. Angie’s skin tingled where Edith was touching her and her chest felt funny, like she couldn’t breathe properly. And then they were swaying to the music, their feet shuffling along in a slow, moderated foxtrot, the hems of their skirts brushing together against their legs. Angie bit her lip and skated the fingers of her left hand higher up Edith’s shoulder, mentally cursing the fashion for shoulder pads.

“You doing okay, New Jersey?” Edith asked, a cute smirk on her lips.

“Fine,” Angie breathed. She felt a little like she was being pulled in every direction at once, still wrung out and empty from Peggy, but also looser and wilder because it didn’t seem to matter what she did anymore. She felt reckless and was starting to relish the freedom to be found in that recklessness. 

So she leaned in and kissed Edith.

Edith froze for a moment, then opened her mouth into the kiss, pulling Angie closer by her waist, pressing their bodies together from thigh to breast and sending a shivering jolt of lust right through Angie’s stomach to sit heavy in her womb.

Oh. Wow.

Talk about being kissed stupid.

“You’re not bad at that for never having been kissed before,” Edith said, her lips still brushing Angie’s own.

“Who says I’ve never been kissed?” Angie asked. Edith just smiled and leaned in again. Angie’s stomach swooped and she slid her hand up to cup the back of Edith’s head and hold her there. Their mouths moved together like the dancing they were no longer doing, sweeping presses of lips mingled with alcohol-laced breath and the scents of their perfume.

Angie was dimly aware of a hubbub rising somewhere in the room and then someone crashed into her, forcing her and Edith apart.

“Stop drawing attention from the tourists,” a cute-looking mannish woman hissed at them.

Angie looked up, reminded of where she was with a stomach-dropping lurch. Over by the bar, a couple of men were loudly exclaiming about something in a drunken slur and the mood of the room had shifted from the easiness of earlier to a wary sort of attention.

“We should leave,” Edith said, already steering Angie through the crowd along the edges of the room. Angie looked around frantically for Peggy and saw her assisting a couple of roughs remove the men from the premises.

She sighed. Trust Peggy to jump right into the middle of whatever trouble was brewing without a second thought.

Daniel stood by the door, half his attention on the men on the other side of it and half on her and Edith. He looked authoritative in a way only older brothers could, but also in a way that hinted at his authority as a chief spy, or whatever it was called in the spy world. For some reason, the crutch only helped amplify the impression that he was in charge. A couple of patrons eyed him suspiciously and muttered something about cops before disappearing into the crowd.

“What happened to playing it safe?” he asked Edith when they got within speaking distance.

Edith rolled her eyes and brushed past him, tugging Angie along with her. They stepped out into the sticky warmth of the New York summer night, somehow still refreshing after the hot press of bodies inside the bar. 

Peggy stood a few yards away with her hands on her hips, looking at the rude men with a mocking expression while the roughs elbowed each other and sneered. One of the guys was nursing a heavily bleeding nose and the other was picking himself up off the ground.

“I’m just saying, you should think about it,” Peggy said.

“Fuck you, you queer-ass bitch!”

Angie’s gut clenched in terror and she felt Edith tense beside her, but Peggy just sighed like a disappointed mother.

“I’ll give you to the count of three,” Peggy said evenly, “at the end of which you had both better be gone or you’ll regret it.”

The man with the bloody nose lunged at her and Angie’s breath caught in her throat. Peggy coolly sidestepped and punched him twice in the face. He swung at her; she caught his arm and yanked it behind his back with a sickening wet pop and slammed him face first into the hood of a parked car.

“Peggy, look out!” Angie cried.

The other man charged at Peggy’s unprotected back with a broken bottle, but Daniel’s crutch came whooshing through the air and knocked it out of his hand and into his face, making him scream. Daniel punched him in the gut as his crutch swept the guy’s legs right out from under him. The guy sprawled on the pavement and choked as the tip of the crutch pressed against his windpipe.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” Daniel said. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s not polite to attack a lady?” He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket.

“Oh, do we really need to take them in?” Peggy asked, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. “It’s so much paperwork.”

“You’re the one who picked a fight with a couple of bigots on our night off,” Daniel said. He was smirking at her as he said it and Angie’s jaw dropped. Was the man really flirting with Peggy only seconds after they won a bar brawl?

“Take them in!” a swishy man across the street yelled, soon accompanied by similar calls and jeering from others up and down the street. It was only now that the danger was past that Angie noticed the crowd that had formed. Peggy and Daniel both seemed to shrink a bit at the attention and focused on dealing with their subdued opponents.

“That was so incredibly satisfying,” Edith said, sounding as shell shocked as Angie felt. When Angie turned to look at her, she was smiling. “I’ve got to get her to teach me how to do that.”

“You and me both,” Angie said. She could feel herself starting to shake as her fear for Peggy left her body. The fight hadn’t even lasted a minute, but her heart was thudding like she’d just come out of battle herself.

And to think Peggy did that for a living. Hearing about it in no doubt heavily edited stories was one thing, but actually seeing it… It was nothing like she had imagined. It was far more brutal than the scenes she played out in her head, and the fear she felt was difficult to just brush off. But Peggy and Daniel seemed completely unaffected by it.

Edith met her gaze and grinned, squeezing her hand where she still held it hidden between them. “Your roommate’s pretty amazing. I can see why you and Danny are so in love with her.”

Angie shot her a small smile, but most of her attention was still on Peggy and Daniel, who were moving together and talking like a well-oiled machine as they attempted to convince the roughs to call the cops on the rude men so they wouldn’t be the ones to have to deal with the paperwork. Her heart gave a last pathetic lurch in her chest. They really did suit each other in every way possible.

“They make a pretty good couple, huh?” Angie said. Edith squeezed her hand once more and let it go, stepping away in a movement that seemed like she was just shifting her balance.

“They do. You gonna be okay with that?”

Peggy’s hand trailed lightly over Daniel’s elbow as he stepped away to find a phone himself, annoyance plain on his face. He shot her a warm smile before he turned completely. Angie felt nothing watching them, but the look on Peggy’s face almost made the emptiness worth it. So long as she could keep Peggy in her life somehow, just about anything would be worth it.

“You know, Island Girl, I think I am. Or I will be.”

She turned to look at Edith again, who looked sad but proud. Angie figured she could live with that.

~*~

The next morning, Angie woke to a blurred, painful world and a sanitary napkin she was sure was leaking all over her favorite nightgown. Ugh.

The apartment was empty as she shuffled to the bathroom to change out her sodden napkin and get through the bathroom part of her morning routine. It was still empty when she shuffled back to her room to get dressed for the day. 

Back to barren hallways and no one to talk to but the staff. She already missed Peggy like aching and she couldn’t have been gone more than a few hours. What was the point of having a roommate if that roommate was never there?

Angie had an audition at noon and work during the dinner shift. If she was lucky, she might be able to pick up an extra shift for tomorrow as well. She could always use the money, and it wouldn’t hurt that it’d keep her out of the apartment for awhile.

Her footsteps echoed down the empty hall to the kitchen. This place was definitely way too big to live in alone. Angie wondered if she could convince Peggy to take on another roommate, or if it was even worth the conversation. She was only here because Peggy was such good friends with Howard Stark, and Angie wasn’t sure she could or should keep living here without her. She could probably get her room back at the Griffith without too much difficulty, though she’d miss the ability to stay out past ten if she ever did land a role in something.

The kitchen was just as empty as she expected, but there was a bottle of Aspirin on the counter next to a glass of water. Angie smiled and helped herself. This was why roommates were great. Painkillers in the morning, no questions asked. Just the bottle and some water and-

Propped up in the fruit bowl was an envelope with her name on it, addressed in Peggy’s hand.

Peggy never left notes, not even when she knew she’d be home late.

This couldn’t be good.

Angie should have watched herself better last night, been smarter about her conversation. She shouldn’t have let her jealousy take her over like that. What if Peggy wanted nothing to do with her now?

Oh god, she was an idiot.

Anxiety burbled in her gut, so she snatched a banana to eat while she read and sat down at the kitchen table. With a steadying breath, and then another one for luck, Angie squared her shoulders and opened the letter, pulling out the paper inside and unfolding it.

A paper napkin fell out and fluttered to the floor before Angie could catch it. She furrowed her brow at it then glanced at the paper in her hand. There were only three lines on it.

_This fell out of your pocket when we got home last night. I hope you had as much fun as it implies you did. You’ll have to tell me about her when I get back._

Angie blinked stupidly at note. She didn’t have any pockets in her outfit last night, though the skirt she wore looked like another one she owned that did. 

She looked back at the napkin on the floor and leaned down to pick it up. On it was an address in Greenwich Village and Edith Sousa’s name with a lipstick mark in the shape of a kiss. Her face flamed.

Oh god. She’d really done that, hadn’t she? She’d kissed a girl she didn’t even know in public, in front of Peggy. _In front of Peggy._

Who didn’t seem to mind.

Angie expected that to hurt more than it did. Peggy didn’t mind that she kissed another woman last night. She wasn’t disgusted by it and she wasn’t jealous either. She simply didn’t mind. In fact, she actually seemed to have conspired with someone to give her this note, maybe to encourage more kissing.

Angie peeled back the skin of the banana and began to eat it, looking back and forth between the note from Peggy and the napkin from Edith.

It wasn’t really like there was a choice between them. Peggy was off-limits, no matter what her heart said, and Edith… well, Edith was still something of an enigma at this point.

She thought about the heat of Edith’s hand on her waist last night, about the feel of her lips brushing against her own, the smell of her Shalimar perfume teasing at her senses. A shiver ran up her spine. She definitely wouldn’t say no to more of that.

Edith had things to say, opinions about the world and the people in it - if there was one thing Angie appreciated, it was a woman with opinions. And her smile, once Angie noticed it, lit up the room. In the short time she had known her, Edith made Angie feel seen, poked holes in her irrationality, and even made her laugh on what she had thought might be one of the worst days of her life.

Angie wasn’t in love with her, and she wasn’t certain she ever would be. It was too soon to tell either way. But for the first time in her life she had the real possibility ahead of her that if she did fall she might not be alone in it. And that wasn’t nothing.

Angie looked back at Peggy’s note and smiled. _You’ll have to tell me about her when I get back._

Well, if she was going to tell Peggy anything she’d have to have some things to tell her, wouldn’t she?

She snatched up the letter and napkin and threw away her banana peel on the way out of the kitchen. She’d change into something fetching and romantic, her tan heels with the cute straps, maybe, and her new blouse. She had some producers to impress, but just as importantly she had an address to swing by first. And if she played her cards right, she just might get a kiss for luck to start her day. And that would definitely not be nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I'd write a lesbian melodrama, and yet, here it is! I really hope I didn't fuck it up too badly, for all that I played around with history a bit to make it more palatable to a modern audience.
> 
> Speaking of history, some notes!
> 
> Here's a [link](https://healdove.com/reproductive-health/Overview-of-menstrual-pads) to an article (with pictures) about what women used to use to deal with their periods every month, for those of you who are interested. It makes me glad to be a uterus-having person now instead of in the past.
> 
> The pizza delivery box as we know it today wasn't invented until the 1960s. [Here's](http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2011/07/the-3-big-advances-in-the-technology-of-the-pizza-box/242116/) a fascinating article about its development if you're interested.
> 
> Marlene Dietrich is now known to have been bisexual and to have had many affairs with women over the course of her life. She played in many USO tours during WWII, using her fame as a cover for spy work for the Allies. She also looked damn good in a tux.
> 
> In the 1940s, women were apparently either highly discouraged or actively outlawed from entering most bars without a male escort because it was thought that would limit prostitution and therefore reduce the risk of venereal disease. Cause that makes sense. As a result, bars women could go in alone (such as lesbian bars) were often in shady or dangerous parts of town where they actually would run the risk of being mistaken for prostitutes. Cause, again, that makes sense.
> 
> The Swing Rendezvous was an actual lesbian bar on MacDougal Street (the Christopher Street in the Village before Christopher Street became a thing in the 60s) operating from the mid-40s to the mid-60s. Despite its relatively long lifespan, I had some issues finding much specific information about it, so I took some descriptions of what it looked like in the 60s and merged them with the fact that some jazz and blues bands played gigs there back in the day. I'm assuming it started as more of an entertainment bar/jazz club that eventually became a lesbian bar when the ladies found it to be a safe space (and the owners found that profitable enough to be worth the hassle), which is a thing that happened to some bars. This is also why I had the dancing happen in the same room as the bar instead of hidden in a back room the way most gay bars at the time did for security reasons.
> 
> "Kiki" was a derogatory term in bar culture at the time for a lesbian who refused to conform to either the butch or femme (sometimes spelled fem) roles.
> 
> "Tourists" were straight people who went to gay and lesbian bars to gawk at the clientele. In New York City especially, a lot of servicemen returning from the war played tourist while in the city, making the bar scene uncomfortable or even dangerous for those not willing to put up with it.
> 
> Shalimar perfume has been around since 1921 and is one of the perfumes mentioned by name in one of the few articles I found about the Swing Rendezvous, so I had Edith wear it as a sort of tribute.


End file.
